The Cat Recovery Squad III: Catscratched
by nuguwolf
Summary: 6 years after the events of the Cat Recovery Squad: Dreams of Opal, Benedict has once again found his new cat has gone missing. The only hope he has is to call the two men who have helped him twice before. The Cat Recovery Squad. But can detectives Jonas and Juarez recover from a 6 year retirement for one final case?


Prologue: Excrement The Cat

"My cat is still missing!" Benedict exclaimed as he threw his sheets off his body in frustration before leaping out of his bed. The journey to find his beloved cat, Excrement had been a long, strenuous one. He was tired, more tired than he had ever been. His feet ached as he walked around his small one bedroom apartment and he felt as if his legs would give out on him. He felt an immense throbbing in his head, but he was not going to give up. He searched every crevice of his home finding nothing but long white hairs that had fallen off of Excrement and gathered in corners and under furniture of the apartment.

"Where is that dang cat?" He said aloud, his soft voice echoing through the halls of the apartment. And that's when he heard it. A soft _meow_ rang through the empty air of the apartment finding way to his ears.

"Excrement?" Benedict called out. "Is that you?" Surely he was going crazy. He was so exhausted he thought his mind was playing tricks on him. Like his brain was hearing exactly what it wanted to hear so he could happily saunter off to bed and finally rest. But he heard it again. _Meow_. This time much louder, coming from the front door. Benedict ran to the door as if his very life depended on it and turned the knob. The cold steel of the doorknob felt like ice against his sweaty hand.

Benedict opened the door and saw Excrement lying on the front porch, face first in a pool of her own vomit. Liquidy shit was excreting from under her tail, mixing with the white fur causing half of the cat's body to turn a dark brown, almost appearing to Benedict as if he had found the wrong cat. But it _was_ his cat. Excrement lay motionless on the front porch of apartment 223, and as Benedict looked down at the cold, lifeless body of his beloved cat, he couldn't help but smile. _Just the way she would have wanted to go._ He thought as he reached down to pick up the corpse, vomit and soil dripping from the cold body splattering on the ground reminding Benedict of a beautiful Jackson Pollock painting.

"I will give you a warrior's burial." Benedict said as he walked the heavy white ball of fur into his bathroom, placing it into the toilet before pulling the lever to flush. He watched as the water swirled in the toilet causing a mixture of green vomit, brown shit, and white fur as it slowly went down the drain.

"Goodbye, Excrement." He said lovingly. "Rest in peace."

6 years later…

**The Cat Recovery Squad III: Catscratched**

1\. A New Beginning.

The halls of the animal shelter reeked with the strong stench of urine. Benedict had a sort of disdain for the animal shelter. He always thought it was barbaric the way they kept the poor creatures in small metal cages. Only to be let out so they could be handled roughly by spoiled, screaming children. But on the other hand, there was nowhere that made him happier. A seemingly endless supply of cats for him to pet. And today would prove to be the happiest trip to the animal shelter Benedict had had in a long time. Benedict had been to the animal shelter at least once a month ever since the passing of Excrement. He missed the companionship a cat had brought him, but couldn't bring himself to replace his best friend.

Benedict walked among the aisles of cages listening to the cadence of purrs, meows, and hissing coming from each one. He stopped at each cage and looked inside to see the small faces of bright eyed baby kittens looking up at him, and at every cage he peered into, he smiled. Benedict loved cats. There was so much about cats that brought him happiness that a dog, bird, or reptile simply could not provide. Ever since he was a boy, he seemed to have an emotional bond with cats, and that bond only grew stronger as he aged.

Benedict approached two cages at the end of the long hallway and peered into them. The first cage housed a litter of small black and white cats similar to Opal, a previous cat he had owned. The other housed a litter of small, white haired cats reminding him of Excrement. Benedict chuckled at the sick irony of seeing two breeds of cats that reminded him so much of his previous pets. Almost as if the universe was telling him to pick his favorite of the two. But of course Benedict couldn't pick a favorite. He loved both Excrement and Opal in their own ways. That was when he heard a faint squeaking sound from the cage on the opposite side of the hall.

Benedict turned toward the sound of the squeak and saw the cage. It was alone. Almost as if it was sanctioned off from the other cages.

Benedict approached the lonely cage and peered inside. He saw a single cat with black fur running from its face down it's back toward the tail. The black fur met with bright tan hair covering the underside of the cat, including its legs. Its face looked deformed. It had large, bulging eyes that peered in two different directions. Its ears flopped down to the sides looking like discarded sheets of leather. The cat's snout was elongated, stretching its face out, longer than a regular cat's. And it had a horrible under bite with sharp, crooked teeth that stuck out from its lips.

Benedict looked at the cat with disgust before it opened its small mouth and made another squeak. As if it lacked the energy to push out a full meow.

As soon as he heard that squeak Benedict had a change of heart. He felt bad for the cat. All alone in this small cage, with no one wanting to give it a loving home just because of the way it looked.

"Hey there little guy." He said. As soon as Benedict spoke, the cat's eyes widened with a faint glimmer of happiness. Benedict continued, "you want to come home with me?" The cat turned its head in confusion and it melted Benedict's heart. He then decided that this was the cat for him. And if the cat was sick, at least its final days would be spent in a loving home. He looked at the cage door and saw a number, 626. Benedict turned and walked back down the hall toward the front counter where a woman in blue scrubs sat working at her computer.

"Excuse me?" Benedict asked. "How much for the cat in cage 626?"

"626?" The lady asked. "Are you sure you don't want a _better _cat?"

"No. I want the cat in cage number 626." Benedict proudly exclaimed.

"You can take him. No charge." The women said with a relieved tone in her voice.

The woman pulled open a drawer filled with orange keyes. She dug through it and pulled one out. The key had _626_ written on it in sharpie. She walked Benedict down the hall and opened the cage and allowed him to reach in and pick up the cat. The cat let out a faint squeak as he picked it up.

"Lets see what should I call you?" He asked, holding the cat up so he could see its deformed face. "I know… I'll call you Picker."

The woman shut the cage door and said, "We just need you to fill out some paperwork and you two will be on your way."


End file.
